Mind Meld
by starg8fans
Summary: My take on what will happen when Peter enters September's mind.  Inspired by the teaser for 'The End of All Things'.  Will be AU come Friday night, so I hope to have it finished and posted by then.
1. Chapter 1

_**AN:** The teaser just wouldn't leave me alone. Unbeta'ed due to the rush to get this out before this week's episode_, _so all mistakes are mine. Feel free to point them out so I can correct them.  
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_Since my birthday came and went and nobody gave me Fringe or its characters yet again they're still not mine - darn._

"The only way to find Olivia is through him," Peter said, pointing at the still form of the Observer who was lying on a gurney in the Harvard lab, a bloody bandage covering the wound in his chest.

"Peter, you're not suggesting…" Walter broke off, unable to utter the crazy notion this man who was not his son was implying.

"Why not?" Peter replied, deadly serious.

Astrid had followed their exchange, getting increasingly nervous. "Suggesting what?" she asked.

"He wants to go into the Observer's mind," Walter explained.

"Can you do it?" Peter enquired, in the same serious tone of voice.

"If he dies," Walter pointed out, "and you're in his mind, you could well die too."

Peter took a deep breath. "It's a chance I have to take. He told me Olivia needs me, and he made his way here in spite of his condition only to deliver this message. She must be in deep trouble, and I'm not standing idly by if there's even a smidgen of a chance I could get to her."

Walter's left hand began to twitch, as it always did when he was agitated. "I see your point, Peter. But I'm not sure… it's a very complex procedure."

"You can't be serious!" Astrid exclaimed.

"You've done it before," Peter insisted, completely disregarding Astrid's objection. "In my timeline, you merged Olivia's mind with John Scott's as he was near death after the explosion."

"Really? How extraordinary!" Walter said thoughtfully, his interest obviously piqued.

"You called it 'synaptic transfer', Walter, and 'shared dream state'," Peter explained. "Does that ring a bell?"

Walter rubbed his forehead as if it would help him remember. "I believe I did some experiments on the subject back in 1976. Synchronizing the electric fields of two distinct minds to allow the sharing of information across the unconscious state."

"That's it, Walter, that's just it."

"Hmm," Walter mused. "You would have to be heavily drugged, though."

Peter waved that away. "I know. A mix of Ketamine, Neurontin and LSD, correct?"

"Okay you two, that's it," Astrid interrupted. "You must be completely out of your minds. Is this even science?"

A wistful smile played around Peter's mouth. "My words exactly, Astrid, when Olivia was the one to get into that tank."

"Wait… what? What tank?" Astrid was thoroughly confused now.

"The sensory deprivation tank, of course!" Walter exclaimed. "That would do the trick. I'd have to insert an electromagnetic probe into the base of your skull as well, though."

Peter winced. "I know. That's the part I'm looking the least forward to."

Astrid stared at him. "You're actually considering doing this."

Peter shrugged his shoulders. "It's the only chance we have. And I know that it works. I saw Olivia do it for the man she loved. It's only fair if I reciprocate."

"Even when you weren't that man," Walter pointed out, blunt as always.

Astrid cast him a scathing look and came a few steps closer until she stood right next to Peter. "I understand," she said kindly.

Peter took a shuddering breath. "I only just found her again, Astrid. I can't lose her now."

Walter clapped his hands together, breaking the tender mood. "Time's awasting, and our eyebrowless friend here is deteriorating as we speak. If we are going to attempt this procedure, we better do it now."

"I"m ready," Peter announced, and Astrid chimed in, "So am I."

Fifteen minutes later Astrid had warmed the water in the tank to body temperature and had added a healthy bagful of salt to make it buoyant.

Peter had disappeared into Walter's bedroom to undress, and now showed up wrapped in a tattered old bathrobe. Astrid noticed that he looked pale but determined.

Walter swooped in with a bundle of electrodes and began placing the first batch along Peter's hairline. Then he asked him to open the robe so he could continue on his chest.

Peter did as he was told, but by then Walter's hands were shaking so badly that Peter gently took the electrodes from him.

"It's okay, Walter, I know where they go," he said softly.

Walter swallowed convulsively. "Peter, I'm having second thoughts. Even if I managed to establish a connection between Agent Dunham and John Scott in some other timeline, at least they were both human. We have no idea who or what this man is, or if his brainwaves are even compatible with ours. I'm wondering…"

'Well, there's only one way to find out," Peter interrupted him. He had just finished sticking the last electrode to his chest, right above his left nipple. "And look on the bright side, we may finally get some answers what these guys are about."

Astrid approached with a black piece of plastic that held two wicked looking prongs. "I found the 'Walter Bishop Faraday Harness', Walter. Here's the probe."

"Thank you, my dear. I will go and connect it to the equipment."

As Walter left to attend to his task, Astrid approached Peter and expertly slid an IV needle into the back of his hand, taping it down securely. When she was done, she looked up into Peter's face. "How are you feeling?"

Peter started to say 'I'm fine', but then he looked into Astrid's deep, soulful eyes and realized she would look right through his white lie. "Petrified," he admitted.

"You will be okay, Peter, I'll keep an eye on things. And on Walter," Astrid promised. "I'm not letting anything happen to you on my watch."

Peter smiled, touched by her reassurance. "Actually, that's not what I'm scared about. But Walter - my Walter once said something about the Observers, that they're not human and that they don't think like we do. What if I can't get a connection with this guy? What if our thought processes don't match? How will we find Olivia then?"

Astrid was kept from replying by Walter's return. The black probe in his hand was now trailing wires. "Are you ready? he asked Peter.

"As ready as I'll ever be," Peter sighed.

"You better sit down for this," Astrid suggested, pulling up a stool.

Peter smiled at her concern. "Don't worry, I won't topple over. We've done this before, remember?"

Astrid returned his smile. "How could I forget. But that's not what I meant. You're just so freakishly tall, and I think I can do a better job at eye level."

She made Peter take off his robe. Underneath he was only wearing his boxers. When he was settled on the stool she took the probe from Walter's hands and inserted it with a quick, sure motion.

Peter hissed in pain as the prongs dug through the muscle in his neck, then gasped as a burst of pain flashed through his brain as if he had touched a live wire. "Shit, that sucks!" he ground out.

"The discomfort should only last a second, son," Walter hastened to assure him. Peter was too preoccupied to notice the form of address, but Astrid raised a surprised eyebrow at Walter, who tried to cover his embarrassment by grabbing Peter's biceps and pulling him to his feet. "And in you go, down the rabbit hole," Walter exclaimed, leading Peter to the open doors of the tank.

"Just what I need, a Lewis Carrol reference," Peter groused good-naturedly, "let's hope I'm not about to meet the Mad Hatter."

He stepped into the tank an slid into the briny, warm depth. Walter's face was swimming above him as Peter relaxed into the water. "You must listen to my voice at all times, Peter, I will guide you and bring you back."

"I will. Thank you, Walter," Peter replied. Then the heavy doors closed above him and he was left in darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

_**AN: **I was on a roll last night and this morning, so here's the main part of the story. Probably my way of dealing with the interminable wait until Friday. Still unbeta'ed so please excuse typos and any other mistakes.  
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Peter had to admit it was acutely disorienting in the tank. Without any reference points, be it by vision or touch, he felt like he was floating in a deep, dark void, and he had a hard time discerning where was up and where was down.

A burning sensation in the back of his right hand told him that Walter had started the flow of drugs. Peter clenched his teeth, unsure what to expect. He still remembered his escapade with the LSD when they went looking for Olivia in her own mind. Peter hated not being in control of himself, so it wasn't a sensation he was eager to repeat. But this time was worse.

He had heard Walter tell Olivia last time that what he was giving her would 'rip open her consciousness', and that was exactly what it felt like to Peter. His mind filled with sounds and shapes and patterns, giving him the impression that his brain was expanding. The pressure grew to the level of acute discomfort, and Peter tried to raise his hands, to clutch at his aching head but his limbs would not obey him. He grunted as the pain turned into agony, but just as it became unbearable the bones gave and his mind burst clear out of his skull.

Next thing he knew his consciousness was floating over a large expanse of dark water towards a beacon in the distance that was flashing a green-green-green-red pattern. Peter was drawn towards it as if by a strong magnetic field, picking up speed as he went. At the same time images started to flash through his brain. Some were familiar like Jones being cut in half by the closing portal, the scene he had woken up to in 2026 or the bridge room with the machine; others were not, like two young children in a field of tulips or a sleeping baby.

His mind continued on its collision course with the beacon, and Peter braced himself for the impact that was sure to come. But when he finally hit the bright object, it was not a crash but more like a gentle embrace. Peter slid into the light, was enveloped by it and realized he was back in his body. Slowly he opened his eyes.

For a moment he thought he saw Olivia, frantic and disheveled through a pane of security glass, but the vision disappeared and Peter found himself in a spherical room. A pattern like storm clouds was racing all over the walls, but Peter only had eyes for the other occupant. It was the Observer who was at this moment lying in the lab, the same one who had zapped Peter with his energy weapon on more than one occasion. But now he was standing across the room, in his usual grey suit, and ostensibly in perfect health.

"Who… or what are you?" Peter finally asked, half expecting his words to be parroted back at him by the bald man in front of him. But this time it didn't happen. Instead, the Observer replied in his usual monotone, "I am September." Then he cocked his head in his characteristic way and continued, "You are truly extraordinary."

"Really?" Peter replied sarcastically. "That's quite a statement, coming from somebody like you."

September completely disregarded Peter's jibe and continued, "Wherever we send you, you continue to bleed through."

Peter held up his hands in mock surrender. "Okay, okay." This conversation was going to be difficult. He knew the Observers tended to speak in riddles. He would have to use straightforward questions, that would hopefully be answered in a way he could comprehend - if they were answered at all. "Can you please start expressing yourself in a way I can follow? Who's sending me where and what's with the bleeding through?"

When September didn't answer but just stood looking at him as if he was waiting for something, Peter decided to try a different approach.

"Right. Let's start at the beginning. What are you? What's your purpose?"

"We are the record keepers," September said simply.

"Record keepers for who?"

"The one who came first."

"And where did he come from?"

"That is… uncertain. In a way, he has always existed."

Peter fought down the urge to bang his head against the wall. Obviously he was dealing with matters way beyond his pay grade. But then, solving the existential problem of these stoic fellows wasn't really why he was here. Rather, he was on a mission.

"You said Olivia needed me. Where is she?"

"Olivia…" September said, and Peter thought he saw a flicker of emotion in the expressionless face. "There was not a single future I could see where she survives."

An ice cold hand wrapped itself around Peter's heart. Could it be that Olivia was already… No, he wasn't even going to consider this possibility. "What is that supposed to mean - has something happened to her? Then why did you come to the lab?"

"Do not worry, Peter Bishop, Olivia is safe now. I have made her… important."

Peter let out a deep breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding as relief flooded him. But then his mind latched onto the second sentence in September's little speech. "Important how? Could you maybe… elaborate?" _Great,_ he thought, _I'm starting to sound just like him._

"Olivia Dunham caused my death. That makes her important. She will live."

"Wait…" Peter was beginning to see a bit of light here. "You stepped in and stopped a bullet that was meant for Olivia?" There was no reaction to his question, so Peter continued, "Not that I'm not endlessly grateful, but why would you do that? I thought you were not supposed to interfere."

"Olivia… she was good to me."

The image of a pale face - both young and old at the same time - with deep shadows around the eyes swam into Peter's mind. "The boy - the one they found underground in the condemned building… That was you?"

Again, September showed no inclination to answer the question. "She was good to me, and so was the other one. She called me... Henry."

Peter's momentary elation morphed into frustration as he felt the thread of understanding he had just managed to grab hold of slip through his fingers. "You mean her alternate? From over there? Well, we figured you guys could cross between universes, but where is she coming in?"

September turned away from Peter's searching gaze, focusing on the shimmering patterns on the wall instead.

"When timelines are rewritten, people are erased. Some of them are chosen by He who came first to join our ranks." His pale eyes swiveled back to Peter. "Not everybody is suitable. You too were meant to become one of us, Peter Bishop. But your emotional ties were too strong. You were unable to let go of your reality." Suddenly another series of images flashed through Peter's mind, like a movie on fast forward. He saw September and an older Observer sitting at a table; September in a hardware store, making purchases; and finally September outside the Harvard lab, pushing buttons to activate a strange looking device and getting ready to throw a master switch, but then changing his mind and deactivating the mechanism again.

"You were ordered to erase me for good," Peter said in awe of what he had just been shown, because he didn't doubt that September was the cause of his inter-cranial picture show. "But you refused. It's because of you that I'm back. Why?"

"I wanted Olivia to be… happy," September said simply.

"And you figured I was the guy to do that," Peter stated. "Don't get me wrong, I love to think I _am_ that guy, but what is it to you? Why would her happiness - and mine by extension - matter to you so much?"

"I told you once, Peter Bishop - it must be hard being a father. It is equally hard being a son. There are so many choices..."

"Whoa, whoa, hold your horses - you're not trying to imply you're Olivia's son, are you?"

"I am _a_ Olivia's son," September clarified. "But I must be taking after my father. I too have difficulties to... disregard my emotional ties."

Peter felt as if the floor had fallen away below him. "That's not possible. You can't be my…" He found himself incapable of even saying the word out loud. "I mean, I would never…" Peter broke off as realization hit him. Fauxlivia. He buried his face in his hands.

"Have you never wondered how the Other Side was able to activate their machine?" September asked. "It required your genetic profile."

Peter ran his fingers through his hair to clutch at the back of his head. "I was unconscious for days after I crossed over. I figured they had taken a blood sample." As his brain slowly started to recover from the shock of this revelation, it mapped out the events before he got into the machine. "Wait, that's not possible. The time frame is completely wrong."

September shook his head. "It is not important. Past, present and future are one to my kind."

"_Your_ kind maybe, but _my_ kind still needs nine months to grow a proper baby."

"There are… ways to accelerate matters."

A thousand questions were flooding Peter's mind, but then he noticed that the roaring in his ears he'd been experiencing for a while now was not the result of his frantically beating heart. There were faint tremors running through the ground he was standing on, and suddenly a crack appeared in the wall to his left.

"We are running out of time," September declared. "You must go and find Olivia. She needs you."

"Find her where?" Peter was furious with himself for having wasted valuable time when he should have concentrated on what was really important. Anxiously, he watched a trickle of water that had come through the crack and was now running down the wall.

"You already know the answer," the Observer said, as another, bigger crack opened up behind him. More water started to pour in.

Peter shook his head violently. "No, I don't. You have to tell me."

"I planted the information in your mind. It is the only way how you can take it with you, back to the real world." September cocked his head again. "It is… surprising you made it here. Again, your brief time as a chosen Observer must be bleeding through. A mere human could not have synchronized his brain with mine."

Peter had to fight his urge to ask where he had been before he reappeared in Reiden Lake, but there was a more pressing matter at hand.

He racked his brain for Olivia's location, but came up empty. "I got nothing. How do I access this information?" He had to shout to be heard over the creaking and groaning of the walls that appeared to be about to buckle under an enormous pressure from outside.

"You will find a way," September told him. "She is important. She must live."

Peter lunged at the impassive figure in front of him. "Dammit, you'll have to do better than…"

He never got to finish the sentence because the walls of the sphere they were in collapsed and a wall of water rushed in, drowning Peter in a swirling vortex.


	3. Chapter 3

_**AN:** Thanks to gameoff for the long PM review and the corrections._

_So, here's the final part. Just in time for tonight's episode. There may be a short epilogue later, but for now I'm looking forward to finding out what kind of actual reveals about the Observers are in store for us._

_Needless to say, I'd love to hear your thoughts on my wild theories, and if you have any corrections to share I'd be grateful for those too._

Astrid had kept true to her word, staying close to the monitors and Walter the whole time Peter was in the tank. But it hadn't really been necessary. She had never seen Walter this lucid or focused in the three years she had known him. He was constantly rushing from one bit of equipment to the other, fiddling with dials, checking readings, monitoring the Observer's vitals and fine-tuning the flow of drugs. Actually, Astrid started feeling a bit superfluous.

"By God, he's done it!" Walter suddenly exclaimed, startling her. He pointed at a small black monitor that showed two fuzzy green columns. One was labeled 'Mr X' the other 'Peter'. Astrid could see that they were now approaching each other and began to overlap, until they morphed into one single column.

"So what do we do now?" she asked. "You told Peter you would be guiding him."

"We wait." A proud smile played around Walter's mouth. "There is no need for guidance. This young man knows what he's doing."

"Is there really nothing we can do?" Astrid asked. Inactivity was not something she enjoyed.

"Well, we will have to make sure our bald guest is stable. And we may have to extract Peter in a hurry, should his condition become critical."

Astrid walked over to the gurney where the injured stranger lay. She noticed that his pupils were moving rapidly under his closed eyelids. "I think he's dreaming."

"I think he's meeting with Peter," Walter corrected her. Suddenly an alarm started to sound from one of the monitors. "Oh dear, his blood pressure is dropping. Quick, Aspro, 2 cc's of midodrine intravenously."

"I'm on it," Astrid replied as she reached for a syringe.

Walter kept watching the monitors like a hawk, while casting quick, worried glances at the patient. To his relief the downward trend of the Observer's blood pressure readings stopped, but it remained at that new, low level.

"Oh, this isn't good, I don't like it," Walter muttered. "I think we should get ready to pull…"

He was interrupted by yet another alarm, this one more urgent than the last.

"His pulse rate is spiking!" Walter shouted. "It's only a matter of seconds until he goes into cardiac arrest. We have to get Peter out NOW."

He hurriedly pushed a button that sent a different mix of drugs into the line connected to Peter's IV. At the same time, they heard a loud bang from the tank.

"Oh no no no no, this can't be happening," Walter moaned as he started to run towards the tank, Astrid close behind him. When they threw open the doors, they saw Peter thrashing in the water, his flailing limbs connecting again and again with the sides of the tank. His right hand was bloody where his desperate struggle had ripped out the IV needle.

Walter managed to get a good grip under Peter's armpits, and with unexpected strength gave a mighty heave that pulled the young man out through the opening with him and Walter ending up in a heap on the floor. Astrid was ready with a blanket, but Walter shook his head.

"Quickly, I need 5 cc's of the agent in IV bag no 2." He grunted as one of Peter's elbows collided painfully with his ribs, but he managed to keep his hold one the slippery, writhing mass of limbs until Astrid returned with the syringe.

"Where do I put it?" she asked.

"A vein, any vein," Walter gasped.

Astrid nodded, and with a silent apology to Peter she wrestled one of his arms to the ground and knelt on it with both knees to keep it still while she administered the drug.

It wasn't long until Peter's struggle began to subside, and Walter was able to release his death grip on him.

"Will he be okay?" Astrid asked as she draped a blanket around Peter, who had started to shiver violently.

"Too early to tell," Walter said, sitting up so he could help to support Peter. "He must have pulled his IV before he had absorbed the full dose of the inhibitor, so his mind was still entangled with the Observer's as he a started to wake up. I can only hope we were fast enough to administer the rest of the dose before…"

He pointedly looked over to where the Observer lay. The monitor by his gurney was showing a flatline, which was underscored by a continuous beep.

They were distracted by Peter startling awake, drawing in a huge breath.

"Peter!" Walter called out. "Can you hear me? Are you with me?"

"Walter…" Peter gasped. "A map of Boston… QUICKLY!"

Astrid took off for the office, while Peter cradled his head in his hands, groaning in obvious pain.

"Son, what is it?"

"God, I don't know how long I can hold on to it. DAMMIT, WHERE'S THAT MAP?"

"Here!" Astrid pushed the open road atlas at Peter. He grabbed hold of it like a drowning man, only to have his eyes roll back in his head and his whole body going rigid.

"Oh no! Walter, I think Peter's…"

Astrid broke off as she saw Peter's hand starting to glide over the map, his fingers tracing a pattern over the maze of streets. Finally they zeroed in on an area by the docks, the circles growing smaller and smaller until a trembling digit pointed to one spot. Walter quickly extracted a sharpie from the pocket of his lab coat and marked it with an X.

As if on cue, the tension drained from Peter's body and he fell back against Walter's chest. Slowly his eyes opened, locking with Astrid's who was still crouched in front of him. "Did we get it?" he asked in a hoarse whisper.

Astrid nodded, a big grin spreading over her face. "Yes, Peter, we did," she confirmed. "I'll call in the location right now."

Peter nodded, his head turning as he tried to peek over Walter's shoulder.

"The Observer. Is he…"

Walter shook his head. "He didn't make it."

"Shame," Peter mumbled as the veil of unconsciousness started to descend over his mind. "I still had… so many questions…"


End file.
